


Let's Get Physical!

by Bazzys



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONF (Band)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Choking, Gym Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spit As Lube, himbos, seungjoon's slutty red shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazzys/pseuds/Bazzys
Summary: It's fine, Geonhak tells himself,just focus and everything will be absolutely fine.“Want to grab a coffee once we’re done here?” Jaeyoung proposes, blissfully unaware of Geonhak’s internal struggles.“I don’t drink coffee.”
Relationships: Shim Jaeyoung | Wyatt/Kim Geonhak | Leedo
Comments: 29
Kudos: 78





	Let's Get Physical!

**Author's Note:**

> hiyaa!!!
> 
> first fic!! in this tag!! i can't believe anyone hasn't done this yet, but i'm thankful to be the first holy shit
> 
> anyways, enjoy this mess of an idea i've had churning in my brain for a whole week!

_On my way, be there soon._

Geonhak hits send, looking out the window at the streets passing by with his unlocked phone in his lap. It feels like several long minutes pass by as the car car rolls on, bringing him closer to its destination, but Jaeyoung is of course one of those people that respond right away, and they barely make it to the corner of the block before his notification alerts him of a new message. Geonhak’s hand shoots up to look at it.

_Looking forward to it! *(^o^)*_

Geonhak is nervous. Despite having met Jaeyoung on several occasions such as music shows and other broadcasts, his palms are clammy and his breathing uneven. Jaeyoung had approached him the previous time they met, at their last promotion for Sukhumvit Swimming. He’d been cheerful as ever, but considerate about Geonhak’s obvious struggles to open up, and had shot him an open invite to come over to their company gym for a workout sometime. Geonhak had only managed to mutter a thank you at the time, but he’d texted him later that night to agree on a time. Jaeyoung had been kind enough to let him choose when, considering he’s got an emptier schedule now that they were done promoting.

As more streets pass by, Geonhak becomes increasingly restless, fidgeting with anything he can get his hands on. His eyes are on the scenery, but his mind is elsewhere. He wonders what’s going to meet him when he gets there. Jaeyoung had asked him what exercises he does and offered to set up a training plan for the day. He’d shown him photos of the gym too. It’s not big, but it’s got most of what they’d need for today. 

Geonhak isn’t worried, per se, about how it’ll look, or the workout itself; he’s nervous about being alone with Jaeyoung for the first time. As much as he’d prefer to keep to himself due to his shy nature, he does want to make friends outside of his bandmates too. They’re all branching out and coming home to excitedly tell about their little hangouts with smiles on their faces. In particular, Keonhee has been meeting up with Yunho a lot the past weeks, and the others suspect their playdates consist of more than just consoles.

His train of thought crashes when the car comes to a halt. He looks around the narrow side street they’re parked in, immediately noticing the huge WM sign out front. He gulps and grabs his bag. The manager reminds him about the rules and cautions, and to text him if he needs to pick him up, then drives away.

He pulls out his phone to let Jaeyoung know he’s here before he can convince himself that this is a bad idea. It’s quiet in this area, even though the main street is right around the corner. Geonhak studies the building closer. It’s nothing grand, five floors maybe of concrete blocks and glass windows spotting the facade. 

Jaeyoung comes down to meet him. He’s smiling bright, as always, both comforting him and making his heart beat faster at the same time. He holds the door for Geonhak, who slips past trying not to bump into him. Well inside Geonhak watches as his last chance to escape and avoid this entire situation disappears with a click of the lock.  
“So!” Jaeyoung claps his hands. “Ready?”

Geonhak nods, offering a small smile before following after a chatty Jaeyoung giving him a tour of the building. It matches the outside for the most part, but he’s impressed with how much they’ve been able to fit in there. Jaeyoung shows him where the studios are, and the practice room. Yuto’s in there, earphones plugged in and stretching. Judging by the sweaty shirt he figures he just finished, but he waves when he notices them in the doorway.

“It’s nice,” Geonhak states, internally slapping himself for his voice failing him. 

Jaeyoung doesn’t seem to mind the obvious awkward mood. “It makes do,” he says and leads him further down the hall. “And here,” he announces, reaching inside to turn the light on, “is where the magic happens.”

The fluorescent lights flicker on one by one, filling the room with a sort of low buzz of electricity. It's exactly as in the photos but it feels bigger than he thought it would, which is a relief.

"I appreciate you coming, it's boring to work out alone, Hyojin-hyung doesn't take it seriously at all," Jaeyoung complains with a pout.

Geonhak hums in agreement and drops his bag by the wall. It's the same for him too, and he's glad it's not just him. Finding something in common right away helps him relax a bit, and he catches himself thinking this might not be as bad as he thought it would be.

However bad Geonhak initially thought this could go, he obviously never prepared for the absolute worst outcome.

This is probably the most awkward work out he's ever had. He can deal with cringey pauses in conversation or silence in lack of any words to say. This however? A fucking nightmare.

Jaeyoung isn't one to avoid touches and rather likes to initiate them, and that's fine, Geonhak knew this after meeting him a handful of times since their participation on Road to Kingdom. He also knew Jaeyoung was fit, he's seen the man shirtless, which is also fine. Totally fine.

Geonhak is an observer, always has been and always will be. It's part of the package deal being an introvert and all. This means he notices a lot of things others would miss. He sees details and solutions when there's problems. This also means he overthinks. And right now his mind is going into overdrive trying to figure out what Jaeyoung's touches _mean_.

They're innocent, he thinks. Probably. Maybe. It's not hard to justify a pat on the back or asking for a high five, or Jaeyoung leaning against the wall next to him close enough for their shoulders to touch during their little water breaks. Geonhak can't help but notice the heat radiating off of him, though, which leads him to his next point.

Jaeyoung is hot.

Case closed, court dismissed, no further questions your Honor. It's a fact of life, equal to how birds have wings and fish belong in water. Equal to the fact that Geonhak is painfully aware of how fucking gay he is.

Geonhak thanks the lords above for work outs causing him to turn naturally redder to hide his blushes whenever they do a new exercise. When they did the squats, Geonhak was close to shitting himself from the nerves whenever Jaeyoung slapped at his thigh through the sweatpants. The sit ups were worse, Jaeyoung sitting on his feet and leaning over his knees to count each one.

Geonhak has decided that today is exhausting, and it's not even six in the afternoon yet. At one point between the sets he vaguely remembers Yuto coming to ask if they wanted to go get food with him, saying the others are waiting downstairs arguing about the menu. The rest of the convo is lost in the midst of the microwave noises in his brain, however, when Jaeyoung hauls him to his feet easy as nothing and gives him an absentminded half-hug while talking to Yuto.

Jaeyoung throws an arm around his shoulders and steers him toward the black bench press. He chatters idly about anything and nothing, keeping the conversation flowing even if he does a clear majority of the talking. Geonhak's thoughts are non-existent, and he doesn't realise he's staring at Jaeyoung's naked arm as he puts the weight on the bar before his name is called.

"Huh?"

Geonhak's gaze snaps up to Jaeyoung's face, desperately trying to shove the flashes of a nipple peeking out from the loose singlet Jaeyoung's wearing to the back of his mind. He'll think about that later, whether he wants to or not.

"Are you okay? Do you need a break?" Jaeyoung asks, frowning in worry.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," Geonhak blurts, not sounding persuasive in the least. "Just got stuck on a thought for a moment," he quickly adds and lies back to avoid the topic.

Huge mistake.

Jaeyoung shrugs it off and leaves it be. He gets in position to spot him, and Geonhak forgets how to breathe when faced with Jaeyoung's crotch right in his face. The bar wobbles as he lifts it off the bar catchers, and Jaeyoung squats to prevent it from collapsing onto him.

Squats. With his dick even closer to Geonhak's face.

Geonhak focuses on keeping the bar straight so he doesn't choke himself to death. He'd rather not want everyone to know his cause of death was a gym dick, even if his closest friends probably wouldn't be surprised. With Jaeyoung's help he manages to stabilize the weight, and in an attempt to avoid any questions he begins the set.

 _It's fine_ , Geonhak tells himself, _just focus and everything will be absolutely fine_.

“Want to grab a coffee once we’re done here?” Jaeyoung proposes, blissfully unaware of Geonhak’s internal struggles.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

Two sets of ten repetitions pass by like a breeze. He sits up after finishing the second and almost spits his water out when a hand gropes at his bicep.

"Damn," Jaeyoung says and whistles, "I can tell you're dedicated."

Geonhak blushes, and tries to hide it in his towel, only to jolt when Jaeyoung lifts his arm to study it closer.

"Your veins are insane, holy shit."

If a bottomless hole were to appear at any given time or spot to happily swallow Geonhak whole, this would be it. He coughs out a hushed thanks, praying for that to be the end of the topic. Unfortunately Jaeyoung is the biggest supporter in existence, and he insists on pouring more praise onto him in bucketfuls, unaware of the very much undesired effects it has on Geonhak. His dam finally breaks when Jaeyoung's fingers move onto his chest, and he panics.

"Okay, time for the next set!"

"You should wait a couple more minutes-"

"I'll just do a longer break before the last one," he replies in a rush, already lifting the bar off and getting ready.

Jaeyoung scrambles into position again, and Geonhak's relief is bigger than words can explain when he notices his shirt has slipped out from the waistline of his pants to cover his view of Jaeyoung's dick. _Thank God_ , he thinks, relaxing onto the bench and lowering the bar towards his chest. But the universe is not done fucking with him yet.

As he brings the bar down, Jaeyoung leans more over him, and instead of just staring at his crotch area, Geonhak now has a premium view on his entire front on the inside of the shirt as well as the dick itself.

Geonhak can't take it. A loud 'oof' is punched out of him when he drops the bar straight onto himself, the weights leaning to the floor on one side. Jaeyoung is quick to help him lift it off and place it back on the bar catchers, making sure it won't fall off before turning his attention back to a wheezing Geonhak.

"Oh my God, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" he asks with an obvious worry lacing his words.

Geonhak has thrown his leg over the bench to sit sideways and drying his sweat off with his towel. His ears are on fire from embarrassment and he doesn't want to face the man he's oh so shamefully affected by. The affirmation of 'no, I'm okay' gets caught in his throat before he's able to get the words past his lips when Jaeyoung squats to the floor in front of him.

There's a palm resting on the middle of each of Geonhak's thighs, scorching hot through the soft fabric of his pants, and the towel falls from his hands into his lap. Jaeyoung is studying his face closely for any sign of pain, staring up at him from where he's kneeling between his legs. Geonhak stares back, his breath coming out ragged and shallow. This can not be happening right now. He must be dreaming, or hallucinating; hell, maybe the fucking world is ending for all he knows. No matter how he twists the sentence in his head, though, Jaeyoung is in fact sitting between his spread legs, holding his thighs, and pouting at him.

Geonhak is going insane.

"What's wrong?" Jaeyoung asks, his bottom lip protruding even more.

At the worst possible time and place, Geonhak's dick decides to have a mind of its own. His gaze is frozen at Jaeyoung's lips, and suddenly the hands on him are burning through his entire body only to gather in his abdomen. He's probably gaping too, unable to get a single word out and only hoping that he's not fucking drooling.

"Geonhak." Jaeyoung drags his name out, whining and nudging his legs, and Geonhak decides he _can't_.

His own hands shoot out to steady Jaeyoung's and stop them from rubbing the sensitive insides of his thighs. Jaeyoung looks startled, his eyes switching between the white towel falling to his knees and the panicked look in Geonhak's eyes.

"Is this a joke?"

Jaeyoung's bewildered, and for good reason considering Geonhak's strange behaviour. "What are you-"

Geonhak curses himself for wearing grey sweats today as Jaeyoung looks him over once more only for his eyes to halt midway.

"Oh," he says, the air around them tense. It dawns on him then, and his eyes grow huge in realisation. " _Oh_."

An urge to cry swells up in Geonhak. He's fucked up his shot at getting an actual friend, and even though he knows Jaeyoung would never tell a soul, the mere thought of the things people would say about him to his face, and even worse, behind his back, makes his skin itch with anxiety. He's done, his dreams shattered in the gutter, having forever tainted the image of both his and Jaeyoung's groups and companies. He'll be cancelled, fired and buried from the public until the next time someone brings up "that one gay guy who got hard from working out with someone" to drag him further into the dirt.

"Did I do this?"

Geonhak focuses back on the present, on Jaeyoung's hesitant words. He feels horrible for putting him in this awkward situation, but no matter how hard he tries to profusely apologise for his inappropriate indecencies, his tongue is like sandpaper in his mouth. The uncertainty kills a part of him on the inside, and he just wants to say sorry, to take it back and make it all go away.

"No, it's-it's fine," Jaeyoung rushes out in comfort as Geonhak realises he's run his mouth.

He dares a glance at Jaeyoung in front of him. There's a million thoughts running through his brain, most of them causing guilt to roll heavy in his stomach, but amidst all the misery, a tiny light of faith flickers on.

Because Jaeyoung hasn't moved a single inch. The warm weight of Jaeyoung's palms are still firm against his thighs. Jaeyoung's breathing is faster, and a drop of sweat rolls from his temple and down the side of his face to cling to his jawline. Geonhak notices the colour of his cheeks and how they match the tips of his ears, but it's the eyes that make Geonhak's brain have a record scratch moment.

He's staring back at Geonhak with a glimmer of hope.

Geonhak's lips part on an uneven exhale. Jaeyoung tentatively wiggles his fingers a little, testing the waters and Geonhak's limits. When finding no resistance, he squeezes harder. The muscles in Geonhak's thighs clench and unclench at his touch, Jaeyoung can feel it so well through the material covering them. He lets his hands wander, caressing with varying pressure until Geonhak's arms fall away to grip the edge of the black bench in need of support. A heavy sigh escapes him when Jaeyoung presses his thumb against a particular spot.

Jaeyoung straightens, sitting up on his knees to linger further into Geonhak's space. With his eyes closed, the only indicator of their proximity is when Jaeyoung's breath fans across Geonhak's face, still hot and humid.

"Is this a joke?" Geonhak has to ask, and he can practically feel the corners of Jaeyoung's mouth jerk in a smile, barely there before gone again.

Jaeyoung inhales and closes his own eyes too, drinking in the closeness. "I hope not," he whispers, his nose bumping against Geonhak's.

Closing the distance is easy. Geonhak lets his head droop forward the last centimeter, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss. It's soft, and careful, neither of them daring to move for a heartbeat in case the moment will disappear, like it’s something precious and fragile and must be handled with silk gloves; but then Jaeyoung sighs and leans more into it and breaks the spell.

A fire is lit within Geonhak. He snakes a hand behind the back of Jaeyoung’s head to angle the kiss better and practically hauls him up and into his lap. Jaeyoung is pliant, following Geonhak's every move eagerly. His jaw falls lax and lips parting at the slightest touch of Geonhak's tongue at the seam. It's hesitant, heedful to not cross any lines. It's frustrating, wanting more and not knowing how to tell, so he does what any main dancer would do and uses his body to express himself.

Geonhak yelps when Jaeyoung sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, and he jolts as he grinds down onto him. Jaeyoung moans, and Geonhak is convinced his eyes are suddenly facing back into his skull for a moment. His mind is swimming in liquid electricity, Jaeyoung's hips rolling down on him harder. He shudders on a choked moan, and suddenly a dizziness overcomes him. Instinctively, his hands find and grab onto Jaeyoung's waist firmly, but not trying to stop him from moving in any way, form or sense.

Jaeyoung can clearly feel Geonhak's bulge against him as he continues to grind into him. "Oh God." It comes out strangled and breathless, and Geonhak's legs tremble in response.

He glances down at the man in front of him. He's sweaty, alright, but somehow he looks different this time around. There's a whole other shade covering his cheeks and the soft bridge of his nose, complimenting the soft furrow of his brows. Jaeyoung deems his parted lips an open invite and he's not one to turn it down. They collide together, the uncertainty from before long gone and replaced by a hunger, an impatience they can't contain. So they don't.

It's only a matter of seconds before Geonhak's shirt is discarded onto one of the exercise machines next to them. He gasps into Jaeyoung's mouth, steady hands roaming his upper body and exploring the expanse of it, tracing lines and curves like studying a map. Jaeyoung's shirt follows next, landing in a heap on the middle of the floor.

Geonhak tenses his grip on Jaeyoung as his nails catch on a nipple raking down his front. "Hyung," he whimpers out, frail and beautiful as butterfly wings in the summer, and the last barrier of decency breaks in Jaeyoung.

He palms Geonhak's straining dick through the sweatpants. Geonhak bucks into it with a loud moan that causes a heavy blush to spread across his face.

"Hyung, we're-" he begins, having to swallow when Jaeyoung grabs him to stroke better, "we're in public."

Jaeyoung leans to his ear, nipping at the lobe with his teeth. "I don't care," he admits. He sits back, takes in the scandalised expression before him.

Geonhak is about to sputter out a protest, but his body confesses his true desires. Both his fingers and his dick betray him, pressing into Jaeyoung without a chance of plausible denial. Not that there’s any time for that, anyways, when Jaeyoung’s fingers slide past the waistband of his sweats and wrap around Geonhak firmly.

Geonhak yells. It’s rough in more than one way, the glide dry and Jaeyoung’s skin calloused from hours upon hours spent in the gym. It’s in no way a complaint, and when Jaeyoung drags a thumb over his head, he forgets his own name for a second. Had it not been for the seated position restricting his movements he’d probably have bucked Jaeyoung off his lap long ago, but the fact that he’s pinned down is something he never knew he needed in his life, and it does things to him. He stutters, both vocally and physically, every time Jaeyoung strokes his hand along his length, not paying attention to whatever incoherent thoughts he spilling freely into the echoing room. It’s weird, hearing oneself moaning back.

The position of his wrist is awkwardly bent between them, and Jaeyoung decides that he really doesn’t fucking care anymore. Despite the fact that anyone could walk through the door and have a clear view of their shenanigans, he tugs the elastic down enough to free Geonhak, who gasps at the chilly air. Geonhak is panting into his mouth, their foreheads tightly pressed together, jerking back and forth as if unsure about kissing him or not. It gives Jaeyoung ideas. 

He gathers spit in his mouth, as much as he can, and pulls further away from Geonhak. He opens his eyes, looking utterly wrecked as he observes him curiously. Jaeyoung maintains eye contact, tilting downward and slowly letting a spitball slip and hang from his lips. Geonhak freezes, his heart pounding erratically against his chest and Jaeyoung’s relaxed palm. The spit drops, lower and lower between them, before it lets go of Jaeyoung’s bottom lip. It falls freely until it hits the head of Geonhak’s cock. 

“Oh,” Geonhak inhales shakily, “my God.”

It doesn’t improve the glide by much, but it makes it feel different, makes Geonhak feel different, evidently by the bead of precome gathering in his slit to mix with the rest on the next downstroke. His brain is in mayhem, his limbs prickling with electricity and he fears he might actually pass out.

“That’s so nasty,” he all but growls, words rushed and breathy and drowned out by Jaeyoung’s lips crashing on his as he tugs him down by the neck.

They’re done being cautious, done being quiet and done waiting. Time seemingly stands still, yet Geonhak bites at Jaeyoung’s lips as if any second is their last, fuelled on by the constant flick of Jaeyoung’s wrist and the appreciative deep hums rumbling in Jaeyoung’s chest (or maybe it’s his? He doesn’t care). He’s exploring; grabbing, squeezing, prodding wherever he can reach. He rubs over a nipple, and Jaeyoung arches into him with a strangled moan. Geonhak trails kisses along his cheek and jaw, Jaeyoung leaning his head further into the hold on his neck. 

Changing his grip, Geonhak’s thumb slips to the other side of his neck to rest against the front of his throat. But then Jaeyoung jolts and tugs at Geonhak rougher, and he whimpers. The pressure eases up, only to be reinforced by a whole new sensation. Geonhak looks down, sees how Jaeyoung has pulled his own cock out, and how he strokes them both with one hand, his fingertips barely touching trying to accommodate both at the same time. His grip must clench around Jaeyoung’s throat, fingers digging into the softer flesh of his neck, because Jaeyoung bucks forward. He doesn’t make a move to pull away, however, and instead he stares heavy-lidded down into Geonhak’s eyes challengingly.

“Please,” he mumbles weakly.

That’s all it takes for Geonhak’s last sliver of composure to go flying out the window. He lurches forward and onto Jaeyoung’s neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and scraping his teeth lightly over the wet patches of skin. Jaeyoung allows himself to be supported by Geonhak, trusting the arm behind his back to take his weight as he leans back. Their cocks glide together, the friction so rough Geonhak can physically feel Jaeyoung’s spine rattle from it.

“I’ve never done this before,” Geonhak admits, the confession anxious yet keen and tumbling out easily when intoxicated by the salty tinge of Jaeyoung’s skin. “Let me know if it’s not right.”

Jaeyoung grunts, fumbling for Geonhak’s wrist. He taps it three times. “To release,” he explains. His voice is raspy from a dry throat, and for a moment Geonhak wonders what it’d sound like after a blowjob.

But that’s a thought for the future.

There’s a new kind of tension in the room. Jaeyoung’s breath is stuttering along with his hips, fucking into his own fist at an awkward angle that doesn’t quite work the way he wants it to, but continues to chase his reward nevertheless. It does help that he’s thrusting against Geonhak too, however, the harsh friction both too much and not enough all at once and only adding to the rapidly growing weight rolling in the pit of his stomach.

Geonhak too is getting closer for each second, each drag of Jaeyoung against him, each huffed out moan into his ear. He pulls back to watch Jaeyoung, to observe the myriad of emotions running through his features as he begins squeezing his neck, slowly building the pressure bit by bit until aeyoung goes taut in his hold. He keeps it like that, firm and unyielding as he revels in the way Jaeyoung squirms and gasps for air. Jaeyoung’s pulse quickens, thumping against Geonhak’s hold as the hand around them speeds up, the rhythm now erratic and uncoordinated. Geonhak nearly blanks out, teetering on the edge and letting the promise of an orgasm lure him closer and closer. He wants to break, wants to lean wholeheartedly into it and allow himself to tumble. 

Three taps.

His hand relaxes around Jaeyoung’s throat. He gasps for air, swallowing down as much as he can, and Geonhak sees his eyes roll back on a loud moan. It’s sincere, just like Jaeyoung, and after one, two, three more strokes he comes all over his own hand with a groan. Geonhak bites down on Jaeyoung’s collarbone as he follows suit, adding to the mess they already made. Jaeyoung lets them ride it out together, but even though the cum helps to make the glide smoother, the oversensitivity soon becomes too much for Geonhak, and he sucks in a breath between clenched teeth.

It’s quiet, their panting breaths the only sound filling the room. Geonhak’s heart is beating wildly in his ears, almost deafening out the silence as they stay there for lack of energy and will to move. He’s drained, yet feeling more refreshed than he has for weeks, and all he wants to do is tip back, pull Jaeyoung into him and sleep. Unfortunately, his back is currently threatening to kill him if he doesn’t actually move soon. 

He pats at Jaeyoung’s thigh, still quivering slightly in the aftershocks. “We gotta get up or I’ll have to amputate my spine,” he complains.

Jaeyoung groans, but slowly untangles himself from around Geonhak. His hand is covered with their cum, sticky from the early stages of drying on his skin. Geonhak has to hold him upright when his feet his the ground, knees wobbling under his weight. He swats at Geonhak for comparing him to a newborn calf, carelessly using the cum hand.

“Oh fuck,” Geonhak complains, “that’s so fucking gross.”

Jaeyoung chuckles at the grimace on Geonhak’s face as he stares at the stain on his chest. “Karma,” he states, wiping himself with his towel and water bottle. “Beside, it didn’t seem like you had a problem with nasty earlier,” he continues with a wink.

Geonhak can feel his blush rising like they do in cartoons. He tries to retort, but it comes out a rambling mess instead, so he gives up and snatches the towel from Jaeyoung to avoid it.

“Oh come on, you can’t still be shy after all that!” Jaeyoung gestures to where Geonhak’s still seated like that explains everything. Sadly, it kinda does get the point across. “That’s forever gonna be the Boner Bench now, you helped name another exercise machine in here.”

Geonhak glances around at the inventory. “What do you mean ‘another’?” 

Jaeyoung’s lips purse into a thin line. “I think it’s better if I don’t tell you, but if you ever see Seungjoon in his red shorts in here, please run,” he says with a crooked smile and pulls a clean shirt out of his bag and over his head.

For all it’s worth, Geonhak really doesn’t want to know. After getting dressed too, he looks over the bench to remove all evidence of their risky life choices. He secretly disinfects his hands too, just to be sure. They eventually gather up and leave the room, nearly bumping into Minkyun in the hallway.

“Ah, you’re done? A shame,” he smiles warmly, obviously not too affected by it judging by the glint in his eye looking at Geonhak.

Jaeyoung nods. “Yeah, we’re getting some snacks on the way back,” he says, waving at his bandmate in passing.

They don’t get far before Minkyun’s shrill scream follows them down the corridor. “Why does it smell like dicks in here?!”

Jaeyoung grabs his wrist and takes off running down the stairs. Geonhak laughs at the absurdity of it all, struggling to keep up without falling straight on his face. Making it safely outside, they stop to catch their breaths from the sprint. They share a questioning look before breaking out into another fit of laughter. Jaeyoung throws an arm around Geonhak’s shoulders as they chatter idly. He leads them into an ice cream shop and straight to the booth in the back to escape the worst of the evening sun. They eat in silence for a bit, shoulders touching while they allow the aircon to do its work.

“What’d you get?” Jaeyoung asks, breaking the silence first. 

“Mmm,” Geonhak swallows, “some kind of mochi I think? I don’t like ice cream much.”

Jaeyoung gasps as if offended. “Oh my God, that’s atrocious!” he exclaims, one hand covering his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say to defend myself!” Geonhak protests.

“No,” Jaeyoung blurts, shaking his head and taking another scoop, “we can not let this sit. Come here.”

Geonhak barely has time to turn his head towards Jaeyoung before he’s pulled into a kiss. Jaeyoung doesn’t hold back, using Geonhak’s surprise to push his tongue down his throat. Geonhak’s head spins from the coldness, and his lips are tingling long after Jaeyoung has pulled away.

“That was,” he says, eyes still closed from the daze, “cold.”

Jaeyoung bursts into laughter. “That’s it? That’s all I get?” 

“What?” Geonhak pouts. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

A spark is ignited in Jaeyoung’s eyes at that, and for some reason Geonhak fears his next choice of words. 

“Then how about I blow you next time?”

Geonhak chokes and Jaeyoung laughs triumphantly. A barrier (several, in fact, let’s be real) has been knocked down between them. The conversations are easier now, effortless, and Geonhak is sure that whatever it is they have will only get better in the time to come. The assurance of a ‘next time’ helps him relax and trust that maybe this isn’t as scary as he thought it would be. 

_We’re fine_ , he thinks, listening to Jaeyoung retell a story he missed the first part of, _we’ll be just fine_.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! please leave a kudo and a lil comment for my hard work if you can <3  
> as always, let me know if i forgot any tags you'd like me to include, it's easy to miss one or two in the excitement of posting >.<
> 
> hit me up on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BazzysAO3?s=09)


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